Teddy's Closure
by lcelinaoc
Summary: Twenty year old Teddy goes back to the one place he promised he'd never return: his parents house. And while he's there he comes to realize something about his life.


**Teddy's Closure**

**A/N: So this is a Teddy/Victoire fic. But not romance, more like friends. I'm not saying they aren't going out, there just isn't any romance in this fic. Anyway, R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything!**

Twenty year old Teddy Lupin walked through the door of the abandoned cottage. He swore to himself he'd never come back here, not after what had happened all those years ago. Looking around his parents old house, which he hadn't visited since he was a toddler with his grandmother, he was met with thick layers of dust. Dust on the floor, the tables, the pictures. The small picture frame of his parents was covered in such a layer of dust, he could barely see the movement behind.

Sighing, he put the picture back down and made slow, cautious steps through the cottage. He'd already seen the molded wood from the outside, and he wasn't sure how safe the inside was. He made his way to the living room, to the right of the small entry hall. A once cozy fireplace came into his line of sight, with two armchairs placed in front of it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. His parents had lived here. _He_ had lived here, for a week, give or take a few days. A door led from the cozy living room to the kitchen and dining room. Slowly, he opened the door to the kitchen. He quickly surveyed the room, taking in every detail. The chip in the table that he was sure happened before the elements took their tole on his old home, the loose tile on the floor… He could almost imagine growing up here.

He turned quickly towards the stairs in the hall. Climbing them, testing each step before taking it, he walked to the first door to the right. He knew this room from the distant memory of coming here with his grandmother. The nursery. His nursery. He pushed the door open wider and was greeted with the same room he'd left sixteen years before. The crib still stood in the corner, the mobile above it, the changing table in the corner, the rocking chair beside the door… He remembered it all, vaguely.

He sat in the rocking chair for what felt like hours. Sitting there, not rocking, just sitting. He closed his eyes and thought of 'what ifs.' What if his parents had never died in the war? Or what if his mother had stayed behind? What if he had grown up here, in this little cottage, instead? Would he be the same he was today? Would he still have turned out the way he was? Where he was? As the rush of questions flooded his brain, he groaned and stood abruptly.

Then he reached the last room; his parent's room. He'd never actually seen this room. When he'd come with his grandmother that one time, it was just to satisfy his ever flowing questions about his parents house. A few minutes inside had been enough to satisfy his eager toddler mind. But even at four he could see the look of pain his grandmother wore while they were at the house. After that trip, he'd never asked about his parents in front of his grandmother again. He'd asked Uncle Harry and the Weasley's, but he'd never visited the house again. Until now.

The door to the master bedroom was shut tight. The wood had grown moldy over the past seventeen years since it's last use, so it took some effort to open the door. When it finally did swing open, he hesitated. He wasn't sure he really wanted to see the room.

Summoning his Gryffindor courage, he took a tentative step inside. Like the rest of the house, a thick layer of dust covered every flat surface. Rays of sunlight seeped through the cream colored curtains on the west side of the room. He heard a squeak and saw a mouse scurry from the middle of the floor to a hole in the wall. He looked around the room, running his hand along the chestnut wood, not caring how dirty his hand was. He stood in the middle of the room for a long time. Just thinking about the parents he'd never known.

Taking a shuddering breath, he turned to leave just as the curtain fluttered a bit, shining brightly on a lump on the pillow. Looking at it in confusion, he made his way over to it. It was a piece of parchment. Old, _very_ old. Parts were missing where the mice and bugs had eaten away at it. Some of the ink was smudged. From water or tears, he did not know. The ink was faint, the parchment dark.

He could barely make out the first line:

My dearest Dora,

Hogwarts is under attack. The final battle has begun and I have to help. Harry can't face Voldemort alone. Please don't come after me, Teddy needs someone to raise him. Know that I love you and I pray I will see you soon. If I don't come back, tell Teddy I love him.

Love,

Remus

Teddy couldn't hold it in, he broke down crying. He sank onto the bed and heard it creak as the rusty springs moved after no use for so long.

He didn't know how long he stayed there crying. He barely registered the muffled sound of someone's footsteps coming up the stairs. When Victoire walked in, he barely acknowledged her. She didn't say anything, just sat next to him as he cried silently to himself.

When he finally pulled himself together, he looked up to her, "How'd you know I'd be here."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, thinking carefully about her answer. "I didn't," she said. "But when I looked for you everywhere else I started thinking, where would you go today. Of all days." She gave him a look of pain, not pity, she knew he didn't want her pity, but pain for the fact that he was in pain. She said in a much smaller voice, "They died today, so I figured you might've come here."

He nodded for a moment before rising slowly from the bed. Victoire took the hand he offered her and stood up. "Come on," he said. "It's time to get you back home." He knew Bill Weasley, Victoire's father, would have his head if he didn't have her home on time.

"Wait," she said. He gave her a questioning look and she pointed at the nightstand. A box, a shoebox, by the looks of it, was sitting there.

"What about it?"

She gave an impatient sigh and pointed to the lid. Teddy leaned down and squinted in the dim light through the thick layer of dust. In a messy scrawl was the word… what was it? He passed his hand over the lid, pushing the dust off so he could read the word on the box.

To my darling Teddy

Love

Mum

He picked up the shoebox and lifted the lid off, letting Victoire's hand go in the process. Inside was a small book, a larger book that looked like a photo album, some loose pictures, an envelope, and a couple rough drawings that looked like himself, his father, and Hogwarts.

He picked up the little book first. And looked at the front for a title or author, then the spine of the book and came up empty.

Victoire sighed, "It's a diary. Your mum's, I'd assume."

Sure enough, he opened it and it said,

Property of…

Nymphadora Tonks

The first page started from roughly twenty-one years before. Something about a wedding, and the Weasley's…

Putting it back in the box to look through more carefully later, he reached for the photo album. He was surprised to find so many picture of himself, though he was so young when they had died. The pictures were mostly of his parents. But there were still quite a few of him.

Closing the album, he lifted the envelope and opened it. A very legal looking paper fell out, followed by a key. He lifted both up and skimmed the paper first. His eyes widened. It was his parents will which stated they had left everything to their son. The key was the key to the house and the deed was currently in the Gringott's vault.

Victoire read the will over his shoulder and smiled warmly at him. "I'll help you fix it up," she said. "If you'd like."

Teddy looked up at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She gave him a 'duh' look, "Well you're going to live here, aren't you?"

"I don't know…"

"Nonsense. You were left a beautiful house. All it needs is some fixing up. And at least it's not like Uncle Harry's house that his godfather left him. No dangerous things to clear out or unidentifiable objects," she laughed. He cracked a small smile.

"I guess I could…"

She smiled at him a looped her arm around his, "Good. But, if you don't get me home soon, I won't be going anywhere or helping you anytime soon. We have about fifteen minutes before I'm officially late for curfew. Which I don't even know why I have when I'm eighteen, but oh well."

Teddy said nothing but listened to her talk about random things. He was happy, finally. He had finally found his closure on 'what ifs.' Because walking with Victoire, her arm around his, talking about nothing, while he held onto the shoebox like it was worth more than all the galleons in the world, he realized that his life was pretty good as it was. Parents or no parents, he'd always be Teddy Lupin. The metamorphmagus. And he wouldn't trade it for anything.


End file.
